The Short And The Long Of It
by Clara Devine
Summary: A collection of drabbles written for MopCats Twenty Word Challenge.
1. Attach

_Written for MopCats Twenty Word Challenge at HPFC._

_Disclaimer-...checking....checking...nope. Not JKR._

* * *

_(Attach)_

Lily stared down at her hand.

"If I am ever able to use a wand again I will kill you."

Sirius smiled apologetically. "How was I suppose to know you were left handed?"

The red head glared, "You attached my hand to Dumbledore's hat. I don't think it really matters what hand I use." They were interrupted by extremely obnoxious laughing coming from the other three Marauders.

"I didn't think you'd actually do it," Remus said.

Lily let out a breath of relief, "Remus, thank god! You can fix this, right?"

"Actually…"

Lily groaned, "Perfect. Just perfect. The day I leave my homework for the last minute, Black decides to nick the Headmasters hat and stick my hand to it."

Unfortunately, this only brought about more laughing.

"Ah, Miss Evans! I had been wondering where my hat had went!"

The five students all turned red, the fifth for a different reason than the other four.

"Professor Dumbledore! I-I can explain," Lily feebly tried to explain.

"No worries, Miss Evans, no worries at all! My hats have an odd habit of wondering off on me. Thank you for holding onto it until I could retrieve it." With that, the Headmaster took his hat out of Lily's hand and finished walking to his seat in the Great Hall.

And the rest of the occupants of the occupants of the Great Hall laughed as they saw a frightened Sirius Black begging for mercy at wand point.


	2. Gravel

_(Gravel)_

Harry Potter stared up at the clouds. He didn't like the Dursleys. Aunt Petunia was cold, Uncle Vernon was mean, and Dudley was…Dudley. Harry really couldn't think of any other words to describe his cousin. Dudley was always picking on every kid smaller than him-everyone except his friends, really, seeing as how Dudley was nearly as wide as he was tall. He knew he couldn't do anything, but Harry felt guilty. He hated how his cousin beat up the little kids, and he hated how he couldn't do anything to stop it.

Above his head a cloud floated by in the shape of a deer. But wasn't a deer with antlers called a stag? Yes, Harry remembered, and he paused to admire the cloud before he realized it was getting late and Aunt Petunia would want him home soon to cook dinner.

So Harry stood up, wiped the gravel off his knees, and ventured home.


	3. Full

_(Full)_

Hermione had searched every book in the library, but she simply could not find the answer. There was no hex, jinx, curse, or spell that she found that would produce _those _effects. Harry had joined the search, too, if only to laugh at her.

"You're still searching for an explanation?" he commented one day.

Hermione had simply glared at him.

"It's been over a week. He's back to normal now, Hermione. Just leave it be."

The response was a pile of books being placed down in front of him.

"If you're going to sit here, you might as well help," she had told him. "I've searched every one of these, but you might as well double check. Was he acting weird any time before dinner? Maybe if we found out the symptoms-"

"Hermione."

"Of course! Symptoms! Maybe it was a disease…or a potion!"

"Hermione!"

"Maybe I should go get more books….yes I think I will. Harry?"

"Yes Hermione?"

"Stay here."

Harry rolled his eyes before turning to his red headed friend.

"Is she _still_ on about that?" Ron asked in disbelief. "Absolutely mental, that one."

Harry laughed, "It's Hermione, what do you expect?"

"I just can't see why she wasted her whole week in the library!"

Hermione returned, carrying so many books you could only see the top of her bushy hair.

"Ron, is that you?" she called.

"No?" he responded, looking for a way out. Harry reached out a hand and held him in place.

"Yeah, he came to help. Isn't that great, 'Mione?"

Hermione searched through the pile, "Here you go," she handed him five books, "Tell me if you had any of these symptoms. Honestly, I cannot believe I haven't found anything yet."

"Hermione I already told you-" Ron tried to explain, but Hermione kept rambling.

"You'd think there would be information on a spell that takes away people's hunger. Or maybe-"

"Hermione!" Ron screamed, grabbing her attention. She turned to look at him.

"Yes, Ronald?"

"I already told you," he said slowly, "I didn't eat dessert because I was full."

Hermione shook her head, "Ridiculous. You've never refused dessert before. You only _thought_ you were full," Hermione dropped the book she was holding. "That's it! Mind control! I'll be right back," she said, before darting off again. Ron turned to Harry, who was finding the whole situation rather amusing.

"Aren't you going to do anything?"

"Want to go down to the kitchens?" Harry suggested.

Ron shrugged, "Sure, I'm starving."


	4. Separate

_(Separate)_

George Weasley knew it was wrong of him, but a part of him was relieved his twin had died. He felt horribly guilty about it and, of course, he cried nearly every night, but he was relieved.

All his life people had been confusing him with Fred; mixing up their names, their grades, their _everything_, and though they had laughed it off as kids, you'd expect after raising the two of them for seventeen years, even their own mother could tell them apart! It was as if Fred and George were the same. Everyone used their names together or got them wrong completely. The only person to never mix the twins up in their whole lives had been their little sister, Ginny, and Dumbledore, of course. But really, when had the late Headmaster been merely "a person". To everyone else, though, it had always been Fred and George, Gred and Forge, or even Mr. Weasleys. Fred and George were never acknowledged as anything other than "the twins".

And so, even though George Weasley still cried about it, he couldn't help but feel a little bit hopeful that now, with his brother gone, they would be acknowledged as two separate people.


End file.
